by Melissa Good
The engineer slammed the phone down, shoving her away and cursing at her in Russian.
"Get away from me." Shari warned the two big seamen who now headed for her. "Don't you touch me!" She hit the wall with her back, but in the small space, she had nowhere to go and they grabbed her arms with rough familiarity. "Stop it!"
"Shut up, woman." The captain ordered. "Or I will have them gag you. It is your choice."
"I'll have the law on you!" Shari screamed.
"Idiot!" The captain shouted back. "Is it not obvious that here, I am the law?" He looked at the men. "Take her down to the tendering shell."
Shari realized--in a state of shock--that she was no longer in control of her own destiny. The two men lifted her up between them, their expressionless faces not even registering her as they stared past her and shoved her out the door. She didn't even think of struggling, feeling the strength in the hands that gripped her, and for the first time, a whitewash of fear came over her.
Oh my god. "All I did was use the damn phone!" She suddenly called back over her shoulder. "I'll pay for it! Jesus!"
The captain had already disappeared, leaving the communications engineer to watch them go, a big grin on his face. He lifted his hand and waved at her, then slowly let his fingers close until only one was uplifted.
"Goddamn it!" Shari disappeared down the stairs between her captors, heading downward.
"Stupid bitch." The engineer commented, with a shake of his head.
"Loud as well." The captain reappeared. "It is good you came to get me, Igor. Now we will rid ourselves of this noisy piece of garbage, eh?"
"Eh." The engineer nodded.
"WHAT IN THE hell was that?" Sir Milton stared at the phone in outrage, tossing it onto the small table. "Patricia, what nonsense is this? Nothing on that line but a bunch of gibberish."
"Sorry, sir. It was a lady." The woman hurried over and replaced the phone. "Something about a business matter. She wouldn't leave a name."
"Pah. Someone trying to sue me for paternity again, more likely. Don't trust women further than you can throw them, Patricia."
"Of course not, sir." The aide gave him a brief smile. "Would you like some tea? I have some ready for you."
"Damn straight I do, and who's that out there?" The older man barked. "I see a shadow! Hello!"
"Oh, sir. It's just someone wanting a bit of your time, I told him he had to wait f--oh, sir, please, do wait outside..."
Sir Milton slapped his hand on the table. "Quiet, girl." He ordered, peering through the shadows. "Ah!" He straightened a little in surprise as the newcomer became visible. "Bloody hell, it's you!"
"It is." The visitor clasped his hands behind his back, and ducked his head as Patricia hurried past. "I know that you did not expect me," he said. "But I have something you will be interested in, that I promise."
Patricia paused at the doorway. "I'm terribly sorry sir," she said. "Do you know this person? He didn't say so, or I would have brought him in before now. "
Sir Milton snorted. "Know him? Bugger's my godson. Sit down you damn idiot and if she brings you tea, you drink it, hear me? No bloody arguments."
The visitor circled the small table and took a seat, folding his hands over one knee and issuing a polite smile. "Tea would be good, yes."
"Tea, Patricia. Tea." Sir Milton made a motion with one hand. "Now, what's this all about? Haven't seen you in a dog's age and here you are just like a bad pence turning up in my pocket again."
"You will not think so when I am done speaking."
"You say."
"I do say."
"I SAID, LET me go you apes!" Shari knew it was probably futile, but she struggled anyway, figuring that if she threw them all down the goddamn stairs at least she'd have the pleasure of landing on the fuckers. Her arms ached where the men gripped her, and as she fought against them the pain went from an ache to an outright searing. "Goddamn it!"
Stolidly, the two men dragged her down the last flight of steps and into the dark, cold loading area she'd first come down to. All the sea doors were closed tightly, but the creaking of the metal around them and the motion attested to the rising seas just beyond the steel walls.
"Uh." One man indicated a door at the far side of the hold and they dragged her over to it. Pushing it open. Inside, it smelled strongly of diesel, rust, and the sea. "Stop!" Shari yelled desperately. "Help! Help!"
The second man pulled the door closed behind them and they started down a last flight of metal stairs, their boots and her curses echoing in the stairwell.
After the last step was a platform, facing yet another hatch, this one dripping with more grease and covered in more rust than even the ones up on the deck above. A series of letters and numbers were painted on the inside of the hatch. The first man used his free hand to lift up the receiver of a pristine, incongruous beige phone mounted firmly on the wall. He dialed a number. "Open 12." He muttered briefly after it was answered, then hung up.
Shari paused to catch her breath, her throat aching from the screams. It was quiet for a moment, then a loud boom almost scared her senseless, and she jerked back as the hydraulic lifting mechanism began to open the hatch.
It groaned in protest, and after it slid upward about a foot, the scent of the sea washed in strongly along with a bit of the ocean itself as a wave came up over the edge of the door. "Oh my god." Shari stared at it, the liquid pooling down in a grate and disappearing.
The wind blasted in a moment later as the door continued to rise, whipping them with sea water. Shari found herself being held tight, as she stared out the hatch at a very dark, very rolling sea.
There was nothing past the dim light the ship threw off. Just a faint suggestion of white ruffling, and a hint of what might have been cloud shadows to differentiate between the sky and the water.
The two men gazed impassively out at it, obviously unimpressed. "Gonna see fish." One commented jerking Shari's arm. "Betta keep y'mouth shut."
Shari felt her throat close, and for once she took someone's advice without commenting on it. They weren't really going to throw her out, were they?
A door opened to her right, and she looked quickly, to see a small, oval door folding in toward her, as the captain stepped over the sill and joined them. He turned and closed the portal after him, dogging the locks shut on what was obviously a watertight entryway. "Gentlemen." He greeted the two sailors, who both nodded respectfully but kept hold of Shari.
The captain went to the open hatch, stepping lightly on the edge and leaning out into the salt spray. He appeared to enjoy it, turning his head from side to side and then shaking it to rid it of its moisture. He stepped back and glanced at Shari. "A fine night to be on the sea, as you shall find out shortly."
"You can't put me out there." Shari kept her voice even, with a great deal of effort.
"Of course I can." The captain replied with a smile. "I am the master of the ship. These men will do whatever I ask of them, and we are in international waters."
Shari just looked at him.
"You are a stowaway. You have no papers. You have no identification." The man went on. "I have no obligation to carry you in my vessel, save that obligation that one has to any decent creature out here. However, you are no decent creature, and so, I will have you off my ship."
"There are laws." Shari managed to get out.
"Yes, there are." The captain agreed. "But you will be in no position to argue them." He stepped to one side. "Bring her here." He sniffed reflectively. "You might want to kick your shoes off."
Frozen in disbelief, Shari could only stare at him as she was dragged forward to the opening, a scream erupting only when she was shoved roughly out the hatch into the dark sea beyond.
"I'M SURE YOU won't mind if I just check up on your brilliant maneuvering, right?" Meyer held the phone up to his ear, as Pony Tail hurried to attach a small microphone to it. "Getting this?" He asked over his shoulder.
"Got it, sir." The man behind the sound
console replied. "Got it all."
Dar had never considered herself to possess any acting skills whatsoever, and she knew the only thing keeping her from blowing everything was that she was too shocked to react. She let the knowledge of what Meyer was doing slip past her, and cocked her head, studying the mechanism of the camera instead.
There was nothing she could do. She leaned her elbow on the arm of the chair and propped her head up on her fist, resisting the urge to whistle aimlessly. She didn't dare so much as look at Kerry, and she could only imagine what facial expression her partner had.
Benign interest would have described it. Kerry leaned back in her chair and rested her elbows on the arms, appearing as relaxed as one could in front of two cameras. She'd had more practice than Dar had, and one of the first things she'd learned as a young girl was how to not let the press know when they'd gotten to her.
They were about to be busted on camera. Kerry reconciled herself to that, and didn't regret, even so, the course Dar had taken to get them where they were. If this was how it ended, then it was, and the worst thing that could possibly come out of this was...
"Hello, yes. I need to speak immediately with Sir Melton Gilberthwaite." Meyer said. "It's Jason Meyer. Urgent. Put him on the phone."
Pretentious jackass. Kerry wrinkled her nose. "I'm pretty sure Sir Melton doesn't appreciate being summoned, Mr. Meyer."
Meyer looked at her, but didn't reply.
Dar tipped her head back and studied the overhead lights. They hung from a bare, metal bar grid suspended from the ceiling, and it occurred to her that the stage, like the entire project, was just one big facade in the service of someone else's view of reality.
"I don't care. Put him on the phone." Meyer insisted. "I told you, this is urgent. I'm filming, and I need to speak with him at once."
Maybe they would get lucky. Dar pondered. Maybe Sir Melton would tell Meyer to kiss his ass.
"Thank you. Sir Melton? This is Jason Meyer."
Ah well. Dar tilted her head back to level and regarded Meyer. It had been a good old college try, right? Least she went out with a boom, instead of a whimper.
"That's right. Glad you remember me. Listen, I was just speaking with someone who says they're a new business partner of yours, and I just wa...excuse me?"
Dar's ear twitched.
"No, no, um, no it's ILS, and th--" Meyer listened, his face turning pale even as Dar watched. "Well, I'm very sorry, but--well, no, you see--oh, uh--I'm glad you've made a deal bu--sir? Sir? Hello?"
Kerry sensed a mole whacking in the process of occurring. Her hand twitched, as though reaching for a mallet. "Something wrong, Mr. Meyer?" She asked politely. "Would you like some water? You look a little funny."
Meyer folded his phone up and stared at it, then he let it drop to his knee and looked over at them. "Well, Ms. Roberts." He glanced at Kerry. "Ms. Stuart." He added, after a pause. "Congratulations."
"Thank you." Dar replied graciously.
"Your reputation is assuredly deserved. Since this challenge had ended up a no win situation, the best you should have been able to come out with is a reasonable loss, and yet, you come out with a win." Meyer was now looking at them with wry, bittersweet admiration. "How did you do that?"
And, Dar realized, he'd gotten his ending, despite her and everything else. Oh well. She was in no position to whine about it. "We're the best." She produced what she hoped was a sexy, confident smile. "What else do you need to know?"
Apparently it was enough--more than enough. "Cut." Meyer lifted his hand, and let it drop. "Boy, that's going to be an editing nightmare," he said. "But you gave me what I wanted, Ms. Roberts." He added. "Nice little bit of suspense at the end and everything, and a surprise. Studio'll love it."
Dar got up and brushed herself off. "Glad everyone walks away happy." She muttered. "Ker?"
"Right behind you." Kerry edged around the two men who had come forward to start taking away the set pieces. "Excuse us."
They walked together to the door and went through it, closing it behind them before they stopped and looked at each other. "How did we do that?" Kerry uttered, under her breath, giving the rest of the group a little smile as they got up and headed over.
Dar blinked wide, blue eyes at her, then jerked a little as her PDA went off. She studied the message, then smiled, and tucked it back away. "Well, we are the best." She told her partner. "And sometimes, we're just the luckiest." She put an arm around Kerry's shoulders and relaxed. "It's over, people."
"How'd you do?" Michelle asked.
"Bout like you'd expect." Kerry smiled charmingly at her. "Tell you what, let's go to dinner. We'll tell you all about it."
"Why," Michelle gave her a wary look, "do I get the feeling you're going to enjoy that a lot more than I am?"
"We're buying." Dar added. "C'mon." They led the way toward the outer door, where a small group of people had just entered and were looking around. They all wore leather jackets and gloomy expressions except for the woman in the center, who was dressed like a native and who had apparently been there before. "Excuse us."
"Sorry." The woman drew her group aside. "We're just doing a video here now."
"Good luck." Kerry smiled as she pushed the door open. "Make sure they give you chairs."
"Um thanks. I will." The woman gave them a very strange look, as the door closed and they were outside again in the warm humid air.
It was over. Dar felt about ten pounds lighter. It was over, and they'd won. Lucky or not, it didn't matter.
Oh, yeah.
SHARI FLAILED HER arms as she toppled out over the edge of the doorway, seeing a flash of white that abruptly turned into something big and hard and painful just before she should have felt the water's icy sting instead. "Yahhh!" She yelped in disoriented pain. "Ah! Ah!"
Confused, she rolled over, finding herself lying on a rough, sandpaper feeling surface, hurting like hell. Standing over her was a small, blonde woman she half recognized, who was snickering at her in a very unkind way. "Wh..." She struggled up onto one elbow and stared back at the ship, where the captain was in the opening waving at her. "What the f..."
"My American friends say this..." The captain yelled. "Psyche." He ducked inside after one last wave and the door ground its way tiredly shut.
The blonde woman snickered again. "He does have the damndest sense of humor." She turned her head. "We out of here, sailor boy?"
"Yeap."
Shari felt her throat go dry again, and she shaded her eyes as she looked up at the top level of the boat. A shadowy figure was up there, driving, and she knew suddenly who it was.
Oh shit. Now she wished she was back on the goddamned cruise ship headed for Hell again. She was screwed. She was totally, completely screwed. "Fuck."
"Occasionally." The woman sat down in a deck chair and tucked one leg up under her. "You might want to give it a try sometime."
Shari stared at her.
"Just think. It's how Dar got here." Ceci continued. "How bad could it be, really, hm?"
It was all just too much. Shari put her head back on the deck and just stared up at the clouds, not even caring where they were going or why.
THE MOON HAD come out from behind the summer clouds at last, here in the wee early hours of the morning. Kerry gazed up at it lovingly, letting its silver light soak into her eyes as the hot water of the Jacuzzi soaked into her bare body.
A soft clink nearby made her roll her head to one side, spotting Dar emerging from the condo carrying a champagne bottle and two glasses in one hand and a basket of strawberries in the other.
She was also naked, and as far as sensory pleasures went, Kerry figured she was pretty much on terminal overload at the moment. "Hey, sweetheart." She greeted Dar warmly.
"Hm?" Dar stepped into the hot tub and settled next to her, putting her treats down on the verge. "What can I do for you, beautiful?" She inquired, facing Kerry and giving her a rakish grin. "Now that we've gotten to the end of the project from Hel
l?"
It was so nice to see Dar in a truly good mood. Kerry smiled back at her, lifting one hand from the water and laying it across her partner's cheek without saying a word.
Dar seemed to understand. She reached back and picked up the glasses with one hand, pouring bubbly into them and then passing one to Kerry. They clinked their rims together and took mutual sips. "To winning," she said, with a wry twinkle in her eyes. "Even when it surprises us."
"To us." Kerry answered. "Because winning is pointless and empty unless you have someone to share it with."
"Mm." Dar squirmed closer until they were pressed against each other. She tipped her head back against the padded bumper and gazed up at the stars. "What an end to this day."
"Uh huh." Kerry sipped slowly at her champagne, enjoying the tickle of the bubbles going down that matched the tickle of the bubbles from the water jets around her. "I'm unbelievably glad it's over with, but I have to be honest and tell you I never expected it to come together the way it did."
Dar set her glass down and chuckled. "Anyone who could ever have expected this obviously spends a lot of time consuming illicit pharmaceuticals." She observed. "And since the wildest thing I've ever seen you swallow was orange flavored children's Tylenol, I'm not surprised you were surprised."
Kerry's face relaxed into a broad grin. "Aint' that the truth." She admitted. "As far as vices go, I'm pretty lightweight."
Dar selected a powdered sugar dusted berry and offered it to her.
"Do I count?"
"As a vice?" Kerry's eyes twinkled as she chewed her berry. "Oooo yeah, I think you do."
"Heh heh heh." Dar tossed a berry into the air and caught it in her teeth. "Good." She leaned over and waited for Kerry to bite the half sticking out of her mouth, then they both bit down at once and ended up pretty much in a lip lock.
Strawberry flavored, at that. "Mm." Dar straightened up and waggled her eyebrows. "Much more fun than drugs."